


This is the Goat of the Apocalypse

by lunabee34 (Lorraine)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Crack, Gen, Goats, Humor, Silly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-02
Updated: 2014-04-02
Packaged: 2018-01-17 23:34:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 611
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1406725
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lorraine/pseuds/lunabee34
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is a comment-fic written as an inside joke about a goat icon shared by me and several friends.</p>
            </blockquote>





	This is the Goat of the Apocalypse

“This is the goat of the apocalypse?” Dean checks the hand-painted sign on the wooden gate. “Phil? Petting Zoo Phil?”

“I know what I saw, Dean, and unless we stop it, this goat ends the world.” Sam cocks his head to the side and sticks out his chin, eyes narrowed like he’s daring Dean to contradict him, and Dean grins because really, Sam’s just way too easy to rile up.

“Cut the Cassandra angst, Sammy. I’m not questioning your inner Dionne Warwick. Slaughtering Phil here’s just not my idea of a good time.”

“I don’t know what else we can do. All I saw in the vision was Phil on top of a seriously black altar and then the sky filling up with fire and blood. If we kill Phil, we stop that ritual.”

Phil butts his head against Dean’s knee where it pokes through the slats in the fence and bleats. “And you’re sure we can’t just shoot him?” Dean says as Phil nips at the hole in his jeans, pulling loose a mouthful of threads.

“Yeah.” Sam unsheathes a long silver knife. “We have to slit the throat with a blessed blade or whoever could still use the carcass to channel mystical energy.”

“Okay then.”

Dean hops the fence, Sam close behind him, and the chase is on. The little fucker is fast, but Dean can’t blame him for running. Finally, when he and Sam both are covered in mud and Sam’s got hay sticking everywhichway in his hair like some fucked kind of up crown, Dean calls uncle. “This isn’t working.”

“Maybe we could just protect him from whatever’s gonna use him, stop it before it gets to Phil.”

“And how’re we gonna do that, Sam? We don’t even know what’s coming for him. We can’t prepare for everything. That’s just asking for trouble.”

“Well . . .” Sam pauses, scrunching up his forehead, and Dean gets a Very Bad Feeling about where this conversation is headed. “We could take Phil some place safe, somewhere more defensible.”

“If we can catch the little shit, Sam, we’re killing him, not strapping him to the Impala like some crazy-ass hood ornament and taking him for a ride.” Sam takes a deep breath, and Dean cuts him off at the pass. “And we’re not loading him inside, either. Those horns would rip the upholstery to shreds, and I’m not shoveling Goat Surprise off my Baby’s floorboards in this lifetime.” 

Sam laughs a little and pulls a wisp of hay from his bangs. This is when the forces of darkness show. Or at least that’s who Dean thinks they are, until he realizes they’re all about twelve—two girls, two boys, and one big book between them that’s so foul Dean can feel the wrong oozing off it from ten feet away.

Sam snatches the book from the kid in the baseball shirt and says, “Do you know how dangerous this is? Do you know what you almost did?”

After a single tense moment, toe scuffing ensues. They’d found the book hidden under a loose floor board of the local haunted house, and they hadn’t meant to do anything wrong, they just couldn’t help it, blah blah blah blah. Dean’s heard it all before. Sam takes the kids’ names and numbers before they skedaddle. They’ll check out their houses tomorrow, make certain the brats didn’t stash part of the _Necronomicon_ or something worse under their beds.

“Four twelve year olds and a goat? That’s all it takes to end the world?” Dean shakes his head. Behind him, Phil bleats and then belches loudly. “You said it Phil. Come on, Sammy. Time to hit the road.”


End file.
